Saturday, 17 August 2013

Daya's thermostat is broken

Daya's thermostat is broken
17 August 2013

Every parent deserves a child like my Cole.

A child that is slightly whacky and just a little bit odd.  One that makes you laugh out real loud.  That appreciates and cherishes the bizarre and the unusual.  One that is not scared to go against the grain and has a rather unique outlook on life.  That sees things differently.  That is perceptive.  That thinks out of the box.

And that pretty much sums up my kid.

He makes me laugh from my belly.  He is ridiculously funny and has a knack for comic timing that is superb.  A skill that can’t really be taught.  But rather one that must be felt.

He’s been known to say the craziest things.  Usually very sharp observations of life around him.  He has an ability, to with a single phrase, perfectly capture and encapsulate a moment.

However, at times, this can be to his detriment.  And those around him.

My beloved stepdad, Rob, or rather Daya, as we all call him, is a broken man.  His internal thermostat is shot.  The poor dear.  And so, irrespective of rain, sun, hail or snow, his standard outfit on any given day, is a pair of PT shorts (black or navy) and a plain round necked T-shirt (black or navy).  And always, sans shoes.  In fact, he wears shoes so seldom, that rather than have them in his cupboard, he has them in a crate close to the backdoor at home.  So that if the need arises, he simply pops them on, on his way out of the house.  And as is, his nod to being shod, is always a pair of flip-flops (black and navy).  Do you see a pattern here?

The only time he “dresses up” in a pair of jeans (blue) and lace-up shoes (black), is when he’s performing on stage.  As well as his annual board meeting (he’s generally bored during these – and tends to wear a black suit) in Joburg and in Germany.

In fact, Daya’s love of PT shorts (black or navy) and plain round necked T-shirts (black or navy), is so well documented, than on my mother’s annual soirĂ©e to England to visit my sister, she stacks up on clothing supplies.  And quite literally stacks them for Daya in a neat little pile.  And so, should her visit away be for three weeks, then the pile will comprise 21 pairs of PT shorts (black or navy) and 21 plain round necked T-shirts (black or navy).  My mom usually goes to the only worthwhile clothing shop in Tulbagh, namely PEP stores, and cleans out their entire supply.  I’m wondering if she warns them of her intended shopping spree before the time, so that they can stock up? 

Now this clothes buying is a rather clever plan, as it ensures that Daya has a clean outfit for every day.  In his favourite colours (black and navy).  It also saves the washing machine from Daya’s evil clutches.  And finally, it makes for an interesting countdown calendar until my Mom comes home again.  And so usually while she’s away, and I phone him every so often, to see how he’s doing and touch base with him, he’ll say, “My pile is getting smaller – only seven T-shirts left.  Maggie’s coming home soon.”

I’ve actually never quite thought to ask the question, but I’m assuming that on these annual visits of my Mom’s, she presumably leaves an equally high stacked pile of jocks.  My guess would be, either in black or navy.

Now don’t get me wrong.  Daya is a ridiculously clever man.  As in scary intelligent.  And I’m sure, given enough instructions, and a real need to, he could probably successfully operate the washing machine.  Still, the clothing supply countdown system seems like a more viable option.  And an unmitigated success.

Until a while ago, when we were visiting at Muisnes (my Mom and Daya’s home in Tulbagh).  The kids and I were flopping about in the pool, as it was a magnificently hot day, when Daya came ambling past us.  Walking across the lawn.  Dressed in his usual work day/holiday/hot day/cold day/sunny day/dress-up day attire of (you guessed it), a pair of PT shorts (can’t quite recall if they were black or navy), and a plain round necked T-shirt (not entirely sure if it was black or navy). 

When up piped little Cole’s voice, “Daya are those your only clothes?  Or do you just wear them every day?”

Gotta love that kid!  We still giggle about it today, and quote him often.

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We did a snow trip to Ceres to go and have a look at the snow in the mountains one year.  Rather than taking pics of the snowy landscape, most other tourists stopped to take a pic of our Daya - dressed in his PT shorts (navy) and round necked T-shirt (black).  In fact, he stopped traffic.  The rest of us are dressed in thermal underwear, vests, long-sleeved shirts, sweaters, jackets, beanies, scarves and gloves.  Please note that I am not in fact leaning with my full body weight against Cole - my left leg is merely hiding behind his body.

Daya building his snow man

Daya and my beautiful stepsister, Katarina - Katjie dressed up for a dance, and Daya posing with his gal, in his regular uniform

Daya and some band friends - spot the uniform

He's a nutcase!!!  It was bloody freezing, yet he loved it.  The rest of us took ages to thaw out again.  Daya never even got frozen in the first place.

1 comment:

  1. Love Cole's comment - I think Daya is VERY proud that he noticed!